


needle in the thread (gonna wind up dead)

by lostinanotherworld24



Series: Clay Spenser: A Study in Dumbass [2]
Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Clay Spenser is a Brat, Gen, Hiding Medical Issues, Hospitals, Hurt Clay Spenser, Protective Older Brothers, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinanotherworld24/pseuds/lostinanotherworld24
Summary: For the record , Clay thinks this is incredibly stupid. First of all, he was only lightly stabbed.Turns out, Jason and company don't appreciate self-stitching as much as Clay thinks they should. Especially when that stitching is done with a real needle and thread.
Series: Clay Spenser: A Study in Dumbass [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777708
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	needle in the thread (gonna wind up dead)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a review down at the bottom, letting me know what you thought!

For the record, Clay thinks this is _ incredibly _ stupid.

First of all, he was only _ lightly  _ stabbed. it was a glancing blow from Delta Six, a stocky kid named Harris who’d gotten a little too close during combat training that morning. In fact, Clay wouldn’t even be in the hospital if Campbell, aka Delta Three, hadn’t opened his big mouth and blabbed to Jason.

As Clay would later insist to Jason and Eric, he’d had everything under control. The cut was easily handled with stitches, didn’t even require a doctor’s attention. He’d even shown them the stitches, a tight and neat line across his abdomen.

He probably shouldn't have mentioned he'd done it with a real needle and thread. 

Clay huffs and wiggles around in his too-small hospital bed, unable to get comfortable. The bed feels it’s like made of rocks, and the pillows have no support. He keeps banging his ankle on the footboard every time he shifts and just wants to go home. 

Finally, after what feels like the 87th attempt at sleep, he’s had enough. Carefully he pushes himself up and eases across the cold tiled floor to the chair where his bag of clothes sits. With as little noise as possible, he dresses, wincing every so often at the way his wound throbs. He tucks his wallet into his back pocket and forces himself to straighten his spine. The finer he acts, the greater chance they’ll let him leave with little fuss.

The nurse at the front desk is wary but accepts his excuse of an urgent work emergency. The fresh air outside has never felt so good, and the arrival of a taxi has never seemed so sweet. He’s eager to go home, and not least because he’s afraid of being caught out by Naima. Although he hadn’t seen her during his whole stay, there’s no guarantee that she hadn’t seen him and called Jason and/or Ray. Which would be bad, for so many reasons, because he’s not ready to face them and their subsequent wrath. 

The short trip across town wears him out, and he collapses into bed without even turning any of the lights on.

XXXX 

The next morning, he awakens to shafts of sunlight across his bed and the sound of his TV. Warily, he pokes his head out of his bedroom to find the entire team scattered across his living room. Brock and Cerb are on the floor, while Jason and Ray occupy his couch. Sonny is doing...something in the kitchen, and Eric sits in his favorite recliner.

Well, fuck.

“Aha! There’s our prison breaker,” Sonny announces, and Clay winces as every head snaps to him. He comes fully out of his room and to the doorway of the living room, hands held up in a placating manner. There’s a devious smile on Jason’s face that he does not like, and Eric has never looked more like a shark.

“Ray, you know what’s funny? I could have sworn that last night, we left Clay at the hospital, all tucked into bed. And yet this morning, I get a call from Naima, saying that Clay checked himself out AMA last night. Now, why would someone go and do a thing like that?” 

“Because they’re the most stubborn, bratty SEAL to ever live,” Ray answers, his gaze never breaking from Clay’s. Clay flushes a little because that’s putting it a little strongly. He’s not bratty, he’s just...not shy about making his needs and wants known. Sue him. 

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your taste of freedom, because you’re going right back to the hospital after breakfast,” Jason announces.

“Like fuck I am!” Clay blurts out and feels his stomach drop as Jason gives him the Dad Glare.

“What did you just say?” Jason asks in a dangerously low tone. 

“I’m not going back to the hospital, and you can’t make me,” Clay informs him with a sudden burst of confidence.

The silence in the room is deafening.

“Say that again,” Jason invites him in a tone that absolutely means the opposite. Clay knows he should back down, should apologize before he gets grounded for a year. As things stand Jason will probably thrash him for his sass, and won’t that be a fun experience.

And, yet.

“Doctors are for  _ wimps _ . I’m not going back to the hospital.”

There must be an unspoken signal given because before Clay can breathe he’s being hogtied and dragged out to Jason’s truck. He twists and screams, kicks his feet, and even tries to bite (for which Sonny pops him but good in the mouth), but it’s to no avail. He’s thrown into the bed of the truck summarily, with Sonny sitting on his legs to boot, (cause they all know he’ll throw himself out a moving truck if it came to it). 

The nurses are somehow convinced he’s a flight risk, and produce a set of restraints to tie him to the bed rails. No amount of yanking or pulling can free his hands, and attempting to do just gets his wrist slapped. As an extra measure of caution, the team sets up rotating shifts so that someone’s with him at all times. It’s the worst thing ever and he hates it. 

In the end, he had to stay in the hospital an extra day and was only gone from work for another three. Jason grounds him for three months; they also force him to write one essay about the dangers of stitching up a wound with a real needle and thread, and another about improper medical care. He does so grudgingly, but also feels the tiniest bit of warmth at having teammates who care so much. 

Even if that care does seem less brotherly and more parental, at times. 


End file.
